


In Safe Hands

by demoncow97



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alcohol, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Misunderstandings, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, It's me so there's gonna be shenanigans, Lots of sibling bonding, M/M, Misunderstandings, Protective Beelzebub, Protective Siblings, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27188654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demoncow97/pseuds/demoncow97
Summary: “You don’t remember?” Beelzebub cut him off, taking another step into his space.Had he eaten one of Beelzebub’s favourite meals? Perhaps insulted him whilst drunk? Although Beel wasn’t one to take insults to heart so—“You hurt Belphie.”Diavolo’s eyes went wide and his heart dropped. Those three words were enough to shatter the very world around him.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor & His Brothers, Belphegor/Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me posting a new Belpholo fic at 1am? More likely than you think...

Drinking wasn’t uncommon to Belphegor, despite being neither social nor outgoing in nature. When there were party animals the likes of Asmodeus and Mammon living with him, there was no avoiding it really.

Belphegor had no qualms with alcohol, but it had little effect on him, as, to no one’s surprise, he fell under the category of a sleepy drunk. More specifically, Belphegor went from sober, to tipsy, to passed out with no time in between to enter a truly drunken state. This meant that Belphegor often played the role of mocking bystander, eternal judger of bad choices, which suited him quite well. It was always fun to watch Asmo drink someone under the table, or see Satan mistake small objects for cats and end up cuddling a toaster.

However, the drunks tonight at the Demon Lord’s Castle hadn’t been the one’s Belphegor was used to handling.

Namely, he had never seen Diavolo drunk before.

It was partially his fault, he had to admit, as the instigator behind it. But c’mon, who wouldn’t want to see their giant goofball boyfriend unleash even more havoc than usual on those around him? And being already tipsy himself, Belphegor couldn’t help but egg Diavolo on using the eyes he knew Diavolo wouldn’t refuse.

And for an hour or so, it had been fun.

Diavolo was a loud drunk, and a clingy one at that. He’d pulled Belphegor around the party introducing him to everyone, including some of the houseplants, and would carry Belphegor away whenever too many people amassed around them. He’d started a food fight, throwing an entire grilled Orthrus across the room, hitting Mammon in the face, which had almost been enough to knock him out. Hell, he’d tried to jump onto the chandelier because a human karaoke song convinced him it was a good idea.

But soon enough, it all came to an end in a way Belphegor had never expected.

Part of him still couldn’t believe it, but the words had been spoken clearly, and Belphegor couldn’t even blame the loud party on him mishearing. He’d heard what Diavolo said, and it had shattered him.

More than anything, Belphegor wished he could’ve been completely drunk. Then maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much. Then maybe he wouldn’t have sprinted through the crowds of partiers at the fastest speed he’d ever run just so no one would see him cry.

Then maybe, even now curled up alone in the familiar attic, he wouldn’t still be crying.

He willed the tears to be bitter, to be angry, but he couldn’t. The tears that fell were anguished and disbelieving. He felt a fool, although he wasn’t sure about which part.

Was he foolish to have expected to be happy? Perhaps it was the stupidity of the blind and ignorant, to not see what must have been obvious.

The words rang through his ears over and over again, the serious eyes of the speaker burned into his skull.

_“I don’t like you Belphie.”_

Of all the people who could have said this to him, why did it have to be from one of the handful he actually cared about? Why did it have to be from the one that he was most scared to lose?

In the moment Diavolo had said those words, his drunken state had completely settled. His face had been so firm, so resolute.

_“I don’t like you Belphie.”_

Had it been drunken honesty that had Diavolo express his true feelings? If not that, then what else?

The attic held no answers for Belphegor, but it held the same loneliness that he felt overcoming the rest of him. The echoes of his breaths which held back sobs resonated within the room like the deepest cave, and kept them hidden like a dark secret.

Belphegor’s head spun, in a manner that it never had before, his own thoughts giving him whiplash. He picked apart every moment, every detail of his time with Diavolo. Now knowing the finished picture, Belphegor struggled to piece the puzzle together, but nothing quite fit. All the smiles and kind, caring words didn’t fit into a picture where Diavolo had hated him this whole time. The stolen kisses and soft confessions screamed at Belphegor that something was wrong.

There was no way Diavolo could have been carrying this hatred this whole time. Then again…

How could Belphegor trust anything?

For the longest time he’d been so sure Diavolo had hated him as much as he had initially hated Diavolo, but those dark whispers his brain had tried so hard to convince him of had faded with each day. Now they laughed loudly saying _I told you so_.

Belphegor just wanted… no, he needed to know what had happened. Had he said something? Had he not been enough? Had Diavolo been trying to tell him this whole time?

He needed to know, but not right now. Right now he wanted to curl into himself, enveloped by the silence of his harried breaths. To be alone to dry his eyes and think on nothing but the darkness of the sky, and how he wished for nothing more than to empty his mind and heart into the expansiveness above.

But fate had other plans, as there was a single knock at the door, before it was opening slowly.

Belphegor steeled his expression but as soon as he caught the eyes of the newcomer, his tears had reappeared and his sobs rang out louder than ever.

He was quickly enveloped in a pair of large arms, rubbing his back, and holding him in such a protective manner that Belphegor couldn’t help but cry harder. He spoke in between his sobs, asking what he had done wrong, asking what he should do.

Beel listened, with words of comfort and reassurance, holding Belphegor until he cried himself to sleep, emotional exhaustion overtaking him at a speed he was silently grateful for.

And it was only because he was asleep, that Belphegor missed the look of pure, uncensored hatred on his twin’s face.

***

Diavolo wasn’t exactly sure what had happened, but he was aware of several things when he got out of bed.

First of all, the party at his palace had gotten a touch out of hand. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him to host parties, and just as ordinary for drinking to be involved. Chaos was to be expected whenever Diavolo or Lucifer’s family set foot anywhere, so that wasn’t what the issue was either. The issue stemmed in the fact that Diavolo had done something he hadn’t done in a long time.

This brought Diavolo to the second thing he was discreetly aware of.

The headache that started at the base of his skull and wrapped around to his temples made it hard to focus on much else. He had brought a hand to his aching skull when he’d awoken, only to find a small bandage on the area, indicating he’d hurt his head sometime last night. But he knew well enough that this headache was not solely from a knock to the head. As much as he wished he were wrong, Diavolo knew what had happened.

He had gotten drunk at his own party, and more drunk than he’d been in well over a century. This was made obvious to him by the mixture of foggy memory accompanying the thrumming of his skull. As powerful as he was, Diavolo was not immune to hangovers and still knew what one felt like after all these years.

Hangovers, however, were not the reason Diavolo kept himself from overdrinking. Even with the many questionable decisions Diavolo made on a daily basis, he knew how important it was for him to have firm control over himself. This might be surprising considering how many choices he made on half a whim, but Diavolo knew if things got out of hand that it was his duty to fix them. He’d never been one to take himself seriously, but the safety of the Devildom was another story.

So he was in equal parts confused and curious as to what had happened to get him to break his own self-oath on losing his self-control, but he had a sneaking suspicion he’d been encouraged by the one person he couldn’t say no to.

It had become apparent that saying no to Belphegor was one of Diavolo’s shortcomings (he’d argue no sane person could say no to those eyes), so he was sure that if Belphie had asked, he would have complied. In fact, with a little concentration, he remembers something similar to that being the case. But if that were true, then the final thing Diavolo was aware of made little sense.

A menacing looking Beelzebub had thrown his door open soon after he’d woken up, and stood at his bedroom door, the piercing glare on his face made stronger by the fact that he was in his demon form.

Diavolo knew Beelzebub, or at least knew him well enough that with a murderous stare like that aimed at him, he had done something irredeemable.

Shifting into a defensive position, Diavolo offered Beel a single nod. He’d never felt threatened around any of Belphie’s family, despite the various shovel talks he’d been given when they learned the two were dating, but the way Beelzebub seemed to fill the doorway with such a dark aura, would have had anyone else shitting their pants.

“Beelzebub,” Diavolo acknowledged with a cautious smile, head still pounding lightly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Diavolo and Beelzebub were about the same height, but Diavolo couldn’t help but feel a touch smaller as Beel outright growled at him.

“Apologize,” was the demand that left Beelzebub’s mouth.

“Whatever I have done to offend you, I am deeply sorry,” Diavolo responded immediately, still confused but sincere in his answer.

If anything, Beel only seemed angrier at the answer.

“Not to me,” Beelzebub said through gritted teeth.

Diavolo sent him a questioning look, trying to convey his confusion.

“I’m afraid I do not remember much of the party, but if I did something wrong just—”

“You don’t remember?” Beel cut him off, taking another step into his space.

“No, I was careless and had too much to drink… what is it I’ve done?” Diavolo asked.

There was a tense pause. Diavolo’s heart was in his throat, while Beel aimed his glare at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Diavolo.

Had he eaten one of Beelzebub’s favourite meals? Perhaps insulted him whilst drunk? Although Beel wasn’t one to take insults to heart so—

“You hurt Belphie.”

Diavolo’s eyes went wide and his heart dropped.

Those three words were enough to shatter the very world around him.

How could he do anything that would hurt his precious boyfriend? Even inebriated, what could he have said or done that could have Beelzebub, arguably the least threatening of his family, at his doorstep ready to commit murder. Diavolo didn’t even blame him. If he had indeed hurt Belphegor, he deserved whatever punishment Beelzebub deemed appropriate, and would accept it without complaint.

“What did I do?” Diavolo asked, voiced strained and eyes pleading. “Please tell me, Beelzebub!”

He needed to know. He needed to fix this!

“Do you know that Belphie likes you?” Beel asks instead with a cold look. “He likes you a lot.”

Diavolo opens his mouth, searching for the correct words, but felt a strange fear of speaking. If he were so careless that he’d hurt his boyfriend, how could he trust himself to answer.

But even so, Diavolo knew the answer to the question.

“Yes, I do,” Diavolo managed.

Belphegor may not be the most verbal in his affections, but Diavolo knew how he felt. Diavolo recognized that every second Belphie spent with him was showing how much he cared.

“Then why would you lead him on if you don’t like him back?!” Beelzebub demanded in a louder voice than Diavolo had ever heard from him.

Didn’t like him back…

_Didn’t like him back?_

“I-I don’t understand,” Diavolo said.

The last thread holding Beelzebub back snapped at the response, and before Diavolo could blink, there was a hand grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him into the nearest wall, hard enough that the bricks had definitely cracked. And as much as Diavolo should be registering the pain he was in, he was still reeling over Beelzebub’s words.

What had he done? How could he have possibly made Belphie think he didn’t like him back? Of course he liked Belphegor back!

He more than liked Belphegor, he loved—

And with that thought, Diavolo remembered. It was still fuzzy, and he couldn’t quite recollect all the details, but the conversation rang clear in his head.

_“I can’t believe how many people you got to come to this stupid party,” Belphie grumbled half-heartedly._

_“It’s fun this way! More singers for karaoke kickball!” Diavolo slurred happily._

_Belphie rolled his eyes, but it was a fond gesture._

_“Do you even know everyone here? Do you like them?” Belphie questioned._

_“Of COURSE I like them!” Diavolo said at a much too high volume._

_Belphie took a step toward him._

_“But not as much as you like me?” Belphie asked playfully, taking one of Diavolo’s hands and giving it a squeeze._

_“I don’t like you Belphie,” Diavolo said, eyes firmly on Belphegor._

_Diavolo opened his mouth to finish his thought, but the spinning of the room had him stop to collect himself before he could say those words. The ones he’d wanted to say for weeks now. The ones he now felt brave enough to say with the liquid courage running through his body._

_He closed his eyes to stop the ongoing dizziness, making him miss the look of betrayal and hurt on Belphegor’s face. But before Diavolo could say another word, Belphie had ripped his hand away, and was running through crowds of people and out of Diavolo’s vision._

_“WAIT!” Diavolo called after him, trying to propel himself forward in pursuit, but quickly tripping over himself and slamming his head against the tile floor._

_The fall had him dazed, but before he passed out from the combination of alcohol and cranial impact, Diavolo managed to say what he’d meant to, if only a whisper._

_“I don’t like you Belphie, I love you.”_

Feeling himself being pushed even harder into the wall, Diavolo broke out of his recollection with determination.

He could fix this. He could explain what had really happened. That wouldn’t erase the pain he’d put Belphegor through, but he could spend the next couple decades making up for his own foolishness. First he needed to tell Belphegor how he felt.

No alcohol to use as a crutch, just Diavolo baring himself completely. And if he were turned away at the confession, then Belphegor had every right, but Diavolo couldn’t let this misunderstanding last a moment longer.

Belphegor needed to know that Diavolo loved him.

Diavolo moved a hand to clutch the wrist that held him against the crumbling wall.

“I have to see Belphegor,” Diavolo said with fiery conviction, trying to match the fire in Beelzebub’s eyes.

This didn’t seem to be what Beel had wanted to hear, as in response Beelzebub’s clutch on Diavolo tightened and Diavolo was flung across the room, crashing through one of his bed posts.

His back hit the wardrobe, leaving splinters from the now destroyed object to scatter across the floor. Miraculously, Diavolo had kept his pounding head steady enough to avoid any additional damage there. Or perhaps, even in his enraged state, Beelzebub held enough strength over himself to avoid any lasting damage.

The latter seemed less likely when Beel stalked toward him and yanked him to his feet with all the roughness of a lion tearing at a carcass of meat.

Diavolo caught himself before he could fall again, staring at Beelzebub, eyes unwavering despite the beating he was currently taking.

“I have to see Belphegor,” Diavolo repeated, a hint of desperation in his voice this time.

Diavolo prepared himself for a fist, or to be thrown into one of the two remaining undamaged walls, tucking his chin in to avoid whiplash from any incoming impact.

He had no plans to fight back here, knowing full well hurting Beelzebub would only serve to hurt Belphie further. And if he hurt Belphegor more than he already had… well Diavolo wasn’t sure what he would do with himself.

Contrary to Diavolo’s expectation, Beelzebub took a step away from Diavolo, clenched fists staying at his sides, but the scowl on his face had not budged.

“You don’t deserve to see him,” Beel said resolutely. “Apologize, and I’ll tell him what you said.”

Diavolo shook his head. “I need to talk to him myself, to apologize and explain what happened.”

“I don’t trust you, you’ll just hurt him more,” Beelzebub said, positioning himself like a wall blocking Diavolo’s access to Belphegor. “I don’t want Belphie to hurt more.”

Looking at Beel, Diavolo could see the underlying distress in Beelzebub’s eyes behind the layers of rage and protectiveness. There was desperation in Beelzebub’s actions; a desperation to do whatever he could to keep his twin happy and safe. And despite the aching Diavolo felt in his body, and the bruises that were definitely going to last awhile, he felt a deep appreciation for Beelzebub.

For Belphegor to have someone who loved him so fiercely, so unconditionally, to have his back when Diavolo couldn’t, it was an amazing thing. This appreciation didn’t stop Diavolo from never wanting to be on Beelzebub’s bad side ever again though, for a variety of reasons.

“Please Beelzebub, I don’t want to hurt him either. Hurting Belphegor is the very last thing I’d ever want,” Diavolo urged.

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Beel said, the slightest waver showing in the pinch of his brows.

“You have every right to be angry with me, in fact I’m just as angry with myself at the moment,” Diavolo admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I remember what happened, and it’s not what you or Belphie think.”

Beelzebub looked guarded; jaw locked in place. It was still an improvement to the murderous look that had led to the destruction of half his room. It was a wonder Barbatos hadn’t shown up asking questions yet.

“You told him you didn’t like him,” Beel stated, accusation in his tone.

“You’re right, but only because I wanted to tell him I loved him,” Diavolo admitted.

The admission was easy here, a simple fact. Just as grass was green, Diavolo loved Belphegor. It was almost laughable how avoidable this could have been.

Beelzebub looked surprised at the words, but confusion settled in after a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell him that?” Beel asked.

Diavolo offered a strained smile. “I have no excuse aside from being a drunken idiot at the time. I would love the chance to fix my mistake…”

Beelzebub looked conflicted. He was clearly trying to decide what option would make Belphegor happier, weighing the possibility of Diavolo hurting Belphie all over again.

Diavolo really hoped Beel would agree, if only because if he said no then Diavolo would have to resort to sneaking in to see Belphegor without getting caught. And he was truly dreadful at sneaking around.

There was, however, no ending in which Belphie remained convinced Diavolo hated him. This could not be allowed, and Diavolo would do anything to stop it from coming to pass.

“I just don’t want Belphie to be sad,” Beel said softly, a pained look on his face.

There was a pause, before Beelzebub spoke again.

“You can talk to Belphie if that’s what he wants.”

The relief that filled Diavolo’s chest came so quickly that it was almost painful. That could also be the sign of a broken rib, but Diavolo had other priorities at the moment.

For the first time that day, Diavolo approached Beelzebub. He took Beelzebub’s hand and gave it a grateful shake.

“Thank you so much, Beelzebub. You won’t regret this; I’ll make things right!” Diavolo assured.

But before he could pull away, Beel’s grip tightened to painful levels. Diavolo met Beel’s eyes, which seemed to have one last powerful glare in them.

“If you hurt him again, I won’t forgive you for the rest of my life,” the implications of the threat rung through the air.

Diavolo nodded firmly in response.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

With that, Beelzebub gave his hand one final squeeze, strong enough that Diavolo swore he heard a crack, before he released Diavolo’s hand.

Later, Diavolo might contemplate how absolutely terrifying Beelzebub could be when you hurt someone he loved, but at the moment, there was something much more important to do.

Belphegor was waiting, and if Diavolo wasted another second, he might possibly lose his mind.

Diavolo was going to tell Belphegor he loved him, and not even a barricade of his boyfriend’s brothers was going to stop him.

Although if they tried, Diavolo was sure he could still confess in a full body cast.


	2. Chapter 2

Belphegor would have been happy to sleep another year or two, but as soon as he regained consciousness his brain decided replaying the events of last night would be a fun way to wake up.

Begrudgingly, Belphegor pried open his very swollen eyes, and took a harsh breath. The air felt too cold, and the clothes from last night’s party felt too tight. But Belphegor didn’t feel like moving. He just wanted to lie here alone and numb the feelings that were gradually creeping.

Feelings were terrible and starting today Belphegor decided he would never have any more of them. It would be just him and a constant apathy.

Although this plan was already being dismantled by the number of too loud people entering his attic sanctuary without even the smallest warning.

“Belphie, you’re finally awake!” greeted the grating voice of Mammon.

Belphegor grumbled incoherently in response, trying very hard to convey the aura of _leave me the fuck alone._

This must have had the opposite effect, however, as not only did they not leave, but they had the nerve to settle themselves into the room with him.

Asmo crawled onto the bed and settled himself next to Belphegor, leaning against his shoulder, with Mammon settling on his other side, but having the very un-Mammon like decency to give him a bit of personal space. Satan sat on the chest near the bed, whilst Levi stood awkwardly for a moment before deciding to seat himself on the end of the bed.

Lucifer, to Belphegor’s relief, was not here, and to Belphegor’s disappointment, neither was Beel.

“What are you guys doing here?” Belphegor asked miserably, failing to snap as much as he wanted. He was just too tired to manage more than a vague scowl.

His brothers seemed to share a look, before Satan spoke up.

“Well… we may have heard a few things regarding last night’s party.”

“Did you and Diavolo actually break up?” Asmo asked, holding nothing back.

Satan shot an unimpressed look at Asmo, who responded saying, “C’mon that’s what everyone was thinking.”

Belphegor wondered if the pillow he was using could possibly suffocate him if he tried hard enough. He also pointedly did not answer the question, not wanting to risk having another meltdown. It would definitely just make everyone in the room uncomfortable.

“None of your business,” Belphegor said instead.

“Awwww it’s okay Belphie, we’re here for you,” Asmo cooed, bringing Belphie into a quick hug, before retrieving something from his pocket. “See, I brought this new face cream that does _wonders_ for swollen eyes. And before you turn me down, trust me honey, you need it.”

Belphegor looked decidedly unimpressed at his brother, but made no attempt to move when Asmo began applying the cream to his face. He was too emotionally and physically exhausted to put up any sort of fight anyways.

“According to the books I’ve read, it’s important not to go through this alone Belphie. I could lend you some psychology books if you wanted to take a look for yourself?” Satan said thoughtfully. “Although, I will be the first to admit that many of the most highly regarded break-up guides are highly flawed. Revenge has always helped me when I was unhappy, so I’m unsure why that wouldn’t work here…”

“Ugh, no stupid book is gonna help,” Mammon rolled his eyes. “Here!” Mammon exclaimed before reaching over and snatching Belphegor’s phone off the bedside table.

He turned on the phone and winced.

“Yeah, first things first, we need to get you a new lock screen pic without the lord of assholes on it,” Mammon said.

Belphegor tried to make a noise of protest, but Asmo was already climbing over him to take the phone from Mammon.

“Hey!” Mammon cried indignantly.

Asmo quickly unlocked the phone (Belphegor vaguely wondered how Asmo knew his password), and in the fastest sequence of events Belphegor had ever witnessed, tapped his way through every social media app and took a selfie which was now Belphegor’s new background picture.

“There, he’s one hundred percent blocked, and can’t come crawling back to you now!” Asmo announced, pleased with himself. “And my beautiful face should definitely help you get back on your feet.”

“Did you block his phone number as well?” Satan asked.

“I’m not an amateur, Satan,” Asmo retorted. “Think of all the people I’ve had to help get over me!”

“Yeah yeah, bein’ popular is so hard,” Mammon mocked.

“No need for jealousy,” Asmo said.

“The Great Mammon ain’t jealous! I’m plenty popular!”

“Sure you are,” Belphegor said under his breath, unable to stop himself from joining the Mammon roast.

“I heard that!” Mammon said, but didn’t look as offended as he usually did.

The easy back and forth picked up from there, Belphegor listening but not registering everything. The bickering was familiar, but it was a distraction and nothing more. The voices were a little louder than usual and the laughter slightly forced.

His brothers were clearly trying to cheer him up regarding his _break-up,_ but none of them were very well practiced at this.

Break-up… is that what had happened? Belphegor supposed that wasn’t incorrect. There had been no official ending to their relationship, but if Diavolo disliked him then that was the only course of action wasn’t it?

Belphegor rubbed his eyes, not due to tears, but to try to get himself to focus on something more concrete. He’d used up enough tears last night for the next decade anyways. He felt more numb than anything. Numbness approaching an angry bitterness that Belphegor was very familiar with.

Maybe this had always meant to come full circle. Enemies to boyfriends to enemies once again. At least that way Belphegor would know what he was doing. It was easier to hate than to love someone anyways.

But thinking about Diavolo, he’s not sure he could hate him again, or at least not the same way he did before.

The spiral of thoughts was only broken with the clearing of someone’s throat and a stack of DVDs being placed in front of Belphegor.

“I present to you the best break-up movie collection the Devildom has to offer!” Levi exclaimed, cutting off the bullying of Mammon that seemed to have still been going on.

Belphegor stared wide-eyed at the collection, all in pristine condition, and being held up almost protectively by Levi.

“Oh, great idea Levi!” Asmo exclaimed happily, eyeing the movie options.

“Wait, why d’you have a break-up movie collection? All ya do is stay inside,” Mammon questioned.

Levi blushed a little.

“Of course I know heartbreak! Do you know how crushing it is to devote all your time to a dating sim only to get the bad ending!?” Levi retorted passionately. “You can’t just get turned down by best girl and move on with your life without something to help you get through!”

Turning to Belphegor, Levi placed a hand on his knee.

“I understand your pain Belphie,” Levi said, and had the nerve to have a single tear fall from his eye.

Belphegor was about to unleash all his hatred upon his brother when a threatening voice made itself heard from the stairs outside the room. The loud attic immediately went silent, those within knowing to stop talking when that voice had _that_ tone to it.

“I suggest you turn around and return home.”

And that was definitely Lucifer’s voice. How long had he been standing out there?

And who was he talking to?

“Please Lucifer! I swear I just need to talk to him,” the next voice pleaded, making Belphegor flinch.

Of course Diavolo was here.

He was no doubt here to break things off officially. Belphegor had been wanting an explanation for how things had turned out like this, but he still didn’t feel ready. This limbo, while painful in itself, was probably better than the reality where Diavolo hated him and was here to break up with him.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to do that, Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer said, voice icy.

Belphegor couldn’t see Lucifer, but he could visualize the face that accompanied a tone like that. He’d seen it a few times himself after all. But he was pretty sure he had never in his whole life seen it used against Diavolo of all people.

A small part of him was appreciative (even though he’d rather die than admit it), but another traitorous part of him yearned to defend Diavolo. Apparently his heart hadn’t gotten the ‘ _I don’t like you Belphie’_ memo yet.

“Lucifer, if Belphie wants… we should let him.”

And if Lucifer’s cold defense was a shock, then Beel suggesting to give Diavolo a chance was the biggest plot twist Belphegor had ever seen.

Beel had been here last night when Belphegor had been at his worst, unless that had been some fever dream Belphegor had as a coping mechanism.

“Beel…?” Lucifer sounded just as surprised as Belphegor felt.

Had he said something yesterday that made it seem like he wanted to see Diavolo? He couldn’t remember everything that had come out of his mouth during his emotional overflow.

Either way, if Beel was giving him the choice… and if he and his other idiot brothers would be here afterwards to watch shitty movies and overeat and drag Mammon’s name through the mud…

It would be better to get things over with.

As much as he’d be miserable and devastated in a way he’d never been before… at least he wouldn’t be alone.

“He can come in,” Belphegor said, just loud enough that he could be heard in the hall, but not loud enough that the rasp of his voice could be easily picked up.

The house went silent again. Belphegor’s brothers shot him a variety of looks: cautious, bewildered, protective. But they slowly nodded at him.

“We got your back if you need,” Satan said, shooting a glare at the door.

“Yeah, just call and we’ll come running,” Asmo, a rare serious look in his eye.

“I’ll flood the place if you need to make a quick getaway!” Levi added.

“My car is pretty fast if we need to make a break for it, but ya can’t go crying in it!” Mammon said.

Belphegor shot them a weak smile.

Yup, they were still shitty at the whole comforting thing. Even when they said nice stuff, Belphegor couldn’t take them seriously.

But even so…

“Thanks guys,” Belphegor said quietly.

With that, the room was cleared out aside from the newcomer who took a tentative step into the attic, closing the door lightly behind him.

Diavolo stood there, an unreadable expression on his face. But more than that, he looked like he’d been hit by a truck. His tidy appearance had been replaced by wrinkles and ripped fabric and holes that were definitely not usually there. Belphegor couldn’t even begin to fathom just what could have managed to rough _Diavolo_ up so badly, but he sure didn’t want to meet it in a dark alley.

Approaching tentatively, Diavolo paused in between each step, as if waiting for a signal of how close was too close. The silence was piercing, especially compared to the raucous that had just left the room.

“Belphie…” Diavolo began, inhaling deeply as he spoke.

“How long?” Belphegor cut him off.

Okay, yes, he was all about getting this break-up over with as fast as possible, and knowing how long Diavolo had been putting up with Belphegor’s presence probably wasn’t going to help anything, but he still wanted to know.

What was a little more self-destruction anyways?

“Belphie, I need to apologize,” Diavolo said instead of answering.

“Yeah, well excuse me if I don’t forgive you,” Belphegor replied coldly. “But really, how long have you been hanging around me, pretending to like me?”

Diavolo had the nerve to look hurt.

“Belphie, please understand that this is a misunderstanding,” Diavolo pleaded, reaching a hand forward but pausing when Belphegor glared at him. “There is not any part of me that dislikes you, it is quite the opposite.”

Belphegor had to blink to make sure he’d heard right, before letting out a choked laugh.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do Diavolo, but I heard you just fine last night,” Belphegor said, rasp still present in his voice. “ _I don’t like you Belphie,_ is pretty hard to misinterpret you know.”

Clinging to the biting humour like a lifeline was the only thing stopping Belphegor from a meltdown.

“Now just be honest will you, you’re just making this worse,” Belphegor continued. “Just break up with me and put me out of my misery.”

Belphegor dug his fists into the sheets, on the edge of his seat despite knowing how this was going to end.

“You’re right Belphie, I need to be honest,” Diavolo nodded, making Belphegor grit his teeth in anticipation.

“The truth is… I do not like you, Belphegor,” Diavolo began, and the heartbreak of hearing the words a second time didn’t even have time to set in before Diavolo continued. “But that is only because saying I like you would be a gross understatement.”

Belphegor’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I don’t just like you Belphegor, I love you.”

The world froze at the words. Or maybe that was just Belphegor’s heart stopping.

“Y-you—”

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now, but I was too much of a coward, and then when I was intoxicated everything felt right and I was going to sweep you off your feet!” Diavolo cut him off. “I realize now what it must have sounded like, and how much I have hurt you, for which I don’t expect you to forgive. But please don’t misunderstand my feelings a second longer.”

The whiplash of Diavolo’s words against what Belphegor had been expecting had him shaking. But apparently Diavolo wasn’t done just yet.

“I love you Belphie. You own my heart and have free reign to do with it what you will. If you do not feel the same, I understand,” Diavolo _bowed_ of all things.

When he stood back up, with a face that looked so apologetic and so nervous, Belphegor got to his feet as well.

He felt… well overwhelmed was probably the best word. But the utter joy that expanded into his chest was unmistakeable. Oh, did he mention he felt like an idiot.

This whole thing was so stupid, but so Diavolo. And of course Belphegor’s brain had to blow everything out of proportion. The relief after having questioned the last year of his life felt like he could finally breath. Opposite of his own relief was Diavolo, who was still waiting for an answer, trying to be patient as he looked at Belphegor imploringly.

Belphegor was of half a mind to leave Diavolo hanging until tomorrow and see how he felt afterwards, but even he wasn’t that cruel.

Belphegor pushed Diavolo lightly, noting the dejected look he got in return.

Well, it kind of served him right.

“You absolute fucking dumbass,” Belphegor sighed, all frustration replaced by fondness. “How hard is it to say _I love you_ like a normal person?”

Diavolo looked embarrassed, but Belphegor’s playful tone had relit a spark of hope in his eyes.

“Here, I guess I’ll have to show you,” Belphegor said with a grin.

Diavolo was practically vibrating where he stood.

“I love you too, Diavolo.”

With the words, Diavolo was enveloping Belphegor in a strong embrace. He leaned in for a kiss as well, but Belphegor put a hand to his lips.

“I’m still mad though,” Belphegor said. “I might love you, but don’t do anything like that ever again.”

With the warning out of the way, Belphegor finally kissed Diavolo. They were both still a little tense from the emotional stress of the whole thing, but they fell into a familiar rhythm together. Belphegor had plenty of practice kissing Diavolo but the extra emotion in this one was laden with apologies and promises.

In between each kiss Diavolo would alternate between saying “I’m sorry” and “I love you.” Well at least if this kept up Belphegor wouldn’t be left questioning Diavolo’s feelings ever again.

Belphegor placed a hand on Diavolo’s chest, which resulted in a light gasp from Diavolo. But not the sexy type of gasp he made when Belphegor did something he especially liked, this one seemed almost pained.

Retracting his hand, Belphegor took a step back and gave Diavolo another once over.

“What happened to you anyways?” Belphegor asked, curious tone edging on worried. “Did the party get that crazy after I left.”

Diavolo gave a small laugh, wincing at the question.

“Haha no, I’m afraid I passed out trying to chase after you last night. My current condition was a result of an unhappy guest I met with this morning,” Diavolo said vaguely.

If someone had managed to rough up Diavolo this much, Belphegor would hate to see the other guy. If the other person was even still alive, that is.

“You must have seriously pissed them off,” Belphegor remarked.

“Yes, I most certainly did. Although I can’t say I didn’t deserve it,” Diavolo said easily, earning him a frown from Belphegor. “Beelzebub took it rather easy on me, considering.”

Wait… he said Beelzebub?

Belphegor’s mouth fell open, but he recovered quickly with his own smirk. The mental image of his twin beating up his boyfriend was both heartwarming and horrifying. Beel had always been the protective type, but to think he’d even go after the ruler of the Devildom.

Belphegor was lucky to have a brother like him.

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t kill you,” Belphegor smiled.

It was true. Because he was also lucky to have a boyfriend like Diavolo.

But drinking would be off the table for awhile. Belphegor had enough drunken misunderstandings to cover the rest of his life.

“I love you too,” Diavolo laughed, a warm smile lit up the dark attic.

Belphegor moved in for a hug.

“See that wasn’t so hard,” Belphegor teased, earning him another laugh.

“I think I still need some practice,” Diavolo said. “So I guess I’ll be telling you how much I love you for the foreseeable future.”

And so Diavolo did.

Again, and again, and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Diavolo! Hopefully as a gift, the rest of the brothers don't bully him too bad...
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love Beel and how him and Belphie are such loving brothers. And while I know Beel is the biggest teddy bear, he would definitely go apeshit if someone hurt his family.
> 
> Next chapter: Some reconciliation, a confession, and the other brothers trying their best


End file.
